AUSTIN — Fozzy Whittaker said he considers himself a man of faith, and a believer in a bigger plan. But as his workout buddies know, sometimes he can't resist making a plan of his own.

When Buffalo Bills defensive back Aaron Williams returned to Texas this winter, he saw Whittaker come into the weight room day after day on crutches. A carefully considered strength and conditioning program had been designed for Whittaker to help him recover from major knee surgery.

And day after day, Williams watched Whittaker blow through that program and then do extra work for which he shouldn't have been ready.

“His mentality is, he doesn't care what he's supposed to do,” said Williams, a former Longhorns teammate of Whittaker's. “He wants to do what he's not supposed to do.”

What Whittaker is not supposed to do later this week is be selected by any team in the NFL draft. Considering the devastating fall he took on the beat-up turf in Columbia, Mo., in November — tearing two ligaments in his right knee — he's not supposed to play football at all anytime soon.

But Whittaker, a 5-foot-10, 222-pound running back from Pearland, already has bucked such expectations before. Knee injuries wrecked both of his first two seasons at UT, and the blinding quickness he had once used to become one of the state's top prospects was thought to be gone for good.

Then as a senior he got it back, becoming the key to the Longhorns' “Wild” offensive package and a dangerous special-teams player who had two 100-yard kickoff returns for touchdowns.

Now, even though he still hasn't been cleared to run, much less take contact, he thinks he can come back again.

“It's part of the plan,” said Whittaker, smiling.

And it's not as crazy as it might sound.

NFL scouts thought so much of Whittaker that even though he couldn't take part in most of the physical drills, he received one of just 327 coveted invitations to the league scouting combine.

NFL decision-makers wanted an up-close look at the man who earned a degree in corporate communications and is closing in on a master's, even while committing to a grueling rehab schedule. He spends hours at a time on a stationary bike, which some would consider punishment, but Whittaker calls “liberating.”

Shortly after Whittaker's knee buckled making an open-field cut at Missouri, ending his season, Brown approached the running back and his mother on the sideline to console them. In reality, they were the ones who told Brown everything would be OK.

Whittaker never watched tape of the injury, because he didn't see the point in dwelling on the negative. Some around him wondered if he would ever play again, but Whittaker insists he didn't.

“I actually never really lost hope like that,” Whittaker said. “Whatever my mind tells me to do, that's what I can do. Right now, my mind is telling me I can get right and make (an NFL) team and go from there. And that's what I plan on doing.”